Rent
by kissonthechic
Summary: Ichigo Kurosaki rents out a room in his apartment, and Rukia Kuchiki is the one to take it. How difficult can it be to share the same space...right?


I'm not really sure what this is either. But enjoy :)

* * *

"These are the rules: I sleep at one am—so try not to be too noisy after that time. Yes you can use the stove, no you can't cook food over the fireplace—"

Rukia blinked.

"You'd be surprised." Ichigo kept walking. "Anyway, the top rack in the fridge is for your food, and the bottom is for mine. Unless you want to experience flames from the pits of hell, I suggest you stay away from my source of nutrition…"

She followed him down the hall, glancing at all of his belongings. The first thing she noticed was how _tidy _everything was. She had envisioned that her new living space would consist of dented beer cans and sticky wads of tissue (thank god that was not the case). The ad _did_ say "male university student, 19 years old," but perhaps she had been too presumptuous. By how things were looking, he seemed more like an anal-retentive clean-freak, which also wasn't too appealing. She was starting to see why the last guy had moved out.

"…please refrain from coming back with a build-it-yourself bookcase, night stand, in-door bowling alley, etcetera etcetera because the room is already furnished."

When they finally approached the door to her room, he pushed it open to reveal her new home for the rest of the year. It was a small, but decent space. Rukia only agreed to take it because it was the cheapest room available for rent in Karakura.

Renji—her friend back in Tokyo—was completely against the idea of her moving in with some stranger who could "potentially rape her guts out then deep fry the guts and eat them." To be honest, this Ichigo guy didn't seem like the gut-raping type. She was more afraid of his hygienic wrath than anything else.

"Also, no sex."

Rukia raised her eyebrows. Ichigo coughed.

"Okay fine, you can have sex, but make sure you close the door." A pause. "And only when I'm not around. Any questions?"

"Just one," Rukia chirped. "Are you usually this stingy?"

Ichigo glared at her. "You don't know what I've been through with the last couple of occupants." He grimaced at the thought.

"_Relax_, I wasn't planning on bringing anybodyhere. What would I even say?" she cleared her throat. "_Hey baby, wanna come over to my place? By the way, I'm only paying for the room so don't touch anything else._"

"You never know. Girls can be manipulative as hell."

"Are you speaking from experience?"

Ichigo opened his mouth to reply, but then seemed to have second thoughts. "Anyway!" He whirled around and headed toward the living room. "I only have cable—so you'll have to deal with shitty television."

"I think I'll survive," she drawled. "Anything else I need to know? Is there duct tape somewhere that separates your things from mine?"

"Ha-ha, very funny. And no."

"Do you write your initials on the tags of your clothes?"

"I only do it 'cause—hey! That's none of your business!" he scowled.

Rukia burst out laughing.

"For your information, I've dealt with too many punk-ass thieves." He crossed his arms. "This one bastard thought he could take off with my microwave. I only chased him for half a block before he was panting and wheezing in surrender."

Rukia cocked her head. Poor guy. To think that he only wanted to heat up his food. "If you hate dealing with all of this, why would you rent out a room in the first place?"

"'Cause I can't afford to pay the entire rent myself, and this is as cheap as it gets in Karakura," he mumbled. "But believe me, once I get an actual job, I'm gonna clear out the guest room and celebrate."

"I'm rootin' for ya." She began to toy with the picture frame from the mantel. In it was a photograph of two girls. "Cousins?"

"Sisters."

"They're cute." Rukia put the frame down and picked up another one. A woman with tawny hair was smiling with her mouth wide open. She looked genuinely happy, like she wasn't just posing for the camera. "Who's this?"

Ichigo's shoulders tensed. "My mom." He took the frame from her hands and put it back on the mantel. "Okay, I think that's enough of twenty questions."

Rukia feigned a disappointed look. "Drat. I was hoping to get your credit card number by the end of it too."

"If anything, _I _should be the one interviewing _you_."

"Well what do you wanna know?"

He clicked his tongue. "Are you usually this nosy?"

Rukia gave him an amused look. "Touché." She began to explore a bit more, running her fingers over table tops and bookshelves. She pulled out one of the spines and flipped through its pages. "Ooh Romeo and Juliet. Classy. I didn't peg you as a hopeless romantic."

"Will you stop touching my stuff?!"

She slipped the book back in and collapsed on one of the couches. "Okay, okay. Don't need to get all riled up."

"Why am I starting to deeply regret this decision?"

Rukia flashed him a mock-smile. "Don't worry. As soon as I unpack my stuff, I'll be out of your way. You can even set up a curtain divider if you want."

"I might just invest in one," he replied dryly.


End file.
